


A Dangerous and Marvelous Kind of Trouble

by GlitterAndDoom



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Genderswap, Het
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-12
Updated: 2010-12-12
Packaged: 2017-10-13 15:48:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/138980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlitterAndDoom/pseuds/GlitterAndDoom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She wasn't his type, but he couldn't look away. - In which Tommy meets a captivating woman named Ada Lambert at a bar, and sparks fly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Dangerous and Marvelous Kind of Trouble

**Author's Note:**

> **Title:** A Dangerous and Marvelous Kind of Trouble  
>  **Rating:** NC-17  
>  **Pairing:** Ada Lambert/Tommy Joe Ratliff  
>  **Warnings:** AU, female Adam, het  
>  **Beta:** The lovely [](http://eclectic.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**eclectic**](http://eclectic.dreamwidth.org/), who made everything so, _so_ much better. You are made of amazing, and I  <3 you.
> 
> With special thanks to my dear, dear friend [](http://akatari.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**akatari**](http://akatari.dreamwidth.org/), who read the first bit, even though she's not in the fandom, and made me keep writing.  
>  **Summary:** She wasn't his type, but he couldn't look away.  
>  **Author's Notes:** Written for the glam_kink prompt _Tommy fucks Adam. Being the toppy lady she is, Adam sweet/dirty talks Tommy through the whole fuck, telling him what to do and how good he is. Bonus if Adam can't resist marking her boy up while he pounds her._  
>  **Disclaimer:** I own nothing, and this stuff is all lies.

His friends were dicks. They'd dragged him out to a club, bitching about how he never got out anymore since he got that damned office job that kicked his ass all week long, then Dave ran off after some chick who looked like a hooker, Mia ran off with some guy covered in tattoos and glitter, and Tommy got stuck at the bar as everyone else danced to music that sounded like shit and hooked up with glitter-covered people who seemed worse than the music. He sank down into his jacket and glared at his cheap, watered-down beer—clearly not the tacky, glitzy bar's specialty. This wasn't his scene, or Dave's or Mia's, but there was this _girl_ , and Dave was an _idiot_ , and Mia was _bored_ , and he could still hear them both whining in his head, even over what sounded like the shrieks of a horny cat's final moments.

With friends like his, it was no wonder why he didn't hang out with them much these days. He sighed and took another gulp of his beer. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted _her_ , and everything stopped.

She wasn't his type. Tommy liked them smaller, cute with sleek hair and dark eyes, and she was anything but, all generous curves and miles-long legs and _attitude_. She owned the room, head held high as she strutted toward the bar on her towering heels, taller and more glamorous than all the other girls—and fuck, why wasn't _everyone_ watching her? He tried not to stare, tried to glance at the giggling girls surrounding her, but he couldn't stop his eyes from following the curves of the full breasts spilling out of her wine-colored corset, the path of the tiny leather skirt barely covering her tight, round ass, the sway of her hips, the length her legs—fuck, her _legs_. He couldn't stop staring at them. Her legs went on _forever_ , even without the stiletto boots, and were magnificent, shapely and toned and made to be wrapped around someone.

He wanted them around _him_. Fuck, he could already picture the two of them together, her indecent thighs spread wide as he entered her, or her plump red lips smearing lipstick on his cock. He could hear the sounds of her moans, could feel her soft flesh pressed against him, and...

And she was staring right at him, black-lined eyes undressing him with a gaze so intense it raised goosebumps across his skin. She stared at him like she could see every filthy thought written across his burning face, and he tried to look away but _couldn't_. She daintily took a martini glass from the bartender's hand, and gave Tommy a wicked smile as she lifted it to her lips.

His heart stuttered as she stepped away from her friends and started toward him, her body moving like water as she pushed through the crowd, her gorgeous magnetic eyes locked on _him_. She wasn't his type, was miles out of his league, and still, he held her gaze, compelled to keep his eyes on her in case she changed her mind.

"Hi!" she said, when she finally reached his side, and her voice was high, sweet, and excited, nothing like he'd imagined. He'd expected something else, in the back of his mind, but it didn't matter. "I'm Ada."

The air seemed to shift around her, radiating with an intensity that intimidated and captivated him. She was striking up close, almost overwhelming, and made him forget how to speak, as she lazily leaned a hip against the bar and gave him an easy, friendly grin. He managed to shake himself from his stupor, and he cleared his throat and said, "I'm Tommy." Mentally, he apologized for the plainness of his name and wondered if he should've said something else. Thomas? Tommy Joe? But none of the others fit, and the damage was done.

"Tommy," she repeated, seemingly testing and tasting the name on her tongue. Her friendly smile turned predatory once more, and she took another sip of her drink. "Cute. I like it." She laid a hand upon his thigh, and it burned through the denim of his suddenly too tight jeans. "I like cute boys." She sat her glass upon the bar and leaned closer, her breath brushing against his lips as she looked at him like she'd found something she had always wanted. "And _you_ are a _very_ cute boy."

Before he could grumble that he wasn't "cute," her lips were on his. She tasted of alcohol and faint cinnamon and _her_ , wild and sweet and addictive as fuck. His eyes fluttered closed, and he _melted_ into her, so easily it was almost embarrassing. He could feel her smile into the kiss, and her other hand crept up and wrapped around his throat, controlling and possessive, and _God_ , that shouldn't have felt so good, shouldn't have sent a jolt of fire through his body, shouldn't have made him moan into her mouth and go limp as she consumed him with her kiss.

She pulled away too soon, and he let out a tiny and pathetic whine in protest. "That's it, baby," she said, and chuckled so lightly he almost didn't hear her over the pounding of the music. "God, you're so adorable, exactly what I've been looking for." Her hand slipped up and cupped his cheek, and he nuzzled against her palm. "How are you even real?"

He opened his eyes, and he blinked up at her. His mind was a haze again, drunk on lust and on her. He thought the same thing about her, even as she gave him a hopeful smile and looked at him like he was unearthly as her. "Hey, I'm just a guy," he said at last, and his voice didn't quite feel like his own. "You're the one who's, like, _wow_ , I mean—" He gestured along the length of her body. " _Fuck_."

She burst into giggles. "Oh my God, you are just too cute. You're totally coming home with me, right?"

"Fuck yes!" Tommy couldn't move fast enough. His feet tangled and his legs shook as he hopped down from the stool, and she caught him by the arms and held him steady. Even through his leather jacket, he imagined he could feel the heat of her broad hands against his skin.

"Easy, baby," she murmured, and squeezed him gently. Almost instantly, he felt more stable, and he nodded in reassurance. She let go and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "You okay?" He nodded, and he smiled up at her. He was hyper-aware of her long body against his, making him feel small but protected. Ignoring whatever the rest of the world might think of him letting a woman take the lead, he draped himself against her side. She looked down and gave him another one of her brilliant smiles, and she tugged him even closer. "C'mon, cutie. Let's get out of here."

When they reached the door, she stopped and waved at a group of girls, then pointed at Tommy. A tiny brunette rolled her eyes so hard he thought she'd hurt herself, while another dark haired girl jumped and clapped her hands, and when he slipped an arm around Ada's waist, the excited girl squealed and bounced higher. He thought about standing on his toes and searching for his own friends to let them know he was leaving, but those two assholes had already ditched him anyway and didn't deserve the courtesy, the fuckers, and he really didn't want to pull any part of himself away from Ada.

Then, they were out in the door, walking through the warm night air. He thought about making conversation, but he felt comfortable in the silence and the closeness. Her tight grip on his body and her steadiness left him at ease, even though they were strangers. "I don't usually do this," he said, and she let out a small hum. "Never had some awesome chick just, like, come up to me and drag me off like this."

She chuckled, and he could feel her laugh against him. "I just got sick of going home with guys I didn't want." She looked down at him. "You're not an idiot or a druggie or someone who really sucks in bed, are you?"

He snorted. "No one's complained in a while." He smirked, and she grinned, and, yeah, he really liked it when she smiled. "You're really kind of gorgeous, by the way. What do you do? You a model, or—"

"Fuck no!" She laughed so hard she swayed on her feet and had to lean on Tommy for support. "I'm a singer." Then, almost as an afterthought, she added, "And an actress." She shrugged, and her smile turned wry. "Who _isn't_ around here? I bet even you're trying to make it in something."

"Band. Guitar." He gestured toward his shirt, where the logo of his latest impending failure, Flight of Dark Light, was printed across his chest. "We're about to break up, though. Our singer got his wife pregnant, his wife's the drummer, and it's all kinds of fucked up right now, y'know? But I'm thinking about maybe, like, getting together some of the guys from some of the other ones I've been in and starting a new one, maybe, or something. I dunno."

"D'you play bass? 'Cause if my next thing fails, I may need—and here's my car." She gestured toward a battered blue car and winced apologetically. "It's a piece of shit, I know, but—"

"I've seen worse." He slipped from beneath her arm, and he opened her door for her, then immediately questioned himself. She'd been taking the lead all night. Should he have done that, or should he have let her guide? Was she the type who didn't like a man to act like a gentleman? Luckily, she merely raised her eyebrows in pleased surprise, and her hesitance faded back to amusement as she climbed inside. He breathed, trying to push down the flare of nerves, and he got into the passenger seat, thinking of telling her about his junker and how it crapped out on him a few months back and how he wouldn't be able to get it fixed for, like, forever, but no one wanted to hear a sob story when they were about to get laid, and—

Her hand reached over and squeezed his knee. "Baby, it's okay. Really! God, I can hear you thinking all the way over here." She turned the key in the ignition, and Queen blasted on the radio. Over the music, she shouted, "It ain't that deep!" and gave him a gleeful grin as she rolled down the windows and peeled out onto the road. As she drove, she started humming, then singing along, her voice soaring higher and higher until it matched Freddie's note for note.

Tommy gaped. He'd heard a lot of singers, and a lot of amazing singers, but, _fuck,_ her voice went beyond the best, full of raw power and passion, sliding under his skin and down to his soul as she let loose. "Wow," he said, in a break between songs, staring at her in awe. "You're...fuck, you're _unbelievable_ , holy shit."

"Thank you!" She turned to him, grinning, eyes glowing in the streetlights, cheeks flushed, black hair flying in her face. She'd gone from stunning to breathtaking, and fuck, what was a woman like her doing with him? "I've been trying to get a deal for, like, _years_ ," she winced, "but no one's really noticed me yet or they're all trying to get in my pants, and, just...I'm desperate, yeah, but I'm not _that_ desperate, you know?" She wrinkled her nose and chuckled. "But I'm gonna try out for _Idol_ in a couple of weeks, and if that doesn't—don't laugh."

He couldn't help laughing. _American Idol?_ Seriously? When she deserved so much better... "Sorry, but you're going to just kick everyone else's asses on there, 'cause you're just... _wow_."

She chuckled. "Thanks, honey. You are so sweet." Her gaze drifted back toward him, and she gave him a heated smile. "But not too sweet, though, right?"

Before he could reply, she began singing again, this time following something sensual and explicit that he'd never heard before. He leaned back and listened, his toes curling in his socks as she and the woman on her iPod outlined in vivid, exquisite detail everything they planned to do. He could feel it in his blood, in her voice, in the wicked grin she gave him before she licked her lips and failed to ruin it all with a giggle. "We're almost there, baby," she said, casting a pointed glance toward his lap as he squirmed in his seat, trying to find a position that wasn't torture for his dick. When she turned back to the road, he pressed his hand over his crotch, hoping for some relief, but it gave him none. "You'll be okay," she added, with a smirk and a wink.

After what felt like forever, they arrived at her apartment, and Tommy barely managed to unbuckle his seat belt before he was dragged out of the car and pinned against the door. Then her lips were on his, with tongue and teeth and bruising, heated urgency, and he melted into the kiss as she stole the air from his lungs. "Oh God, I love how you do that," she breathed against his lips before kissing him again. "How you just bend so willingly for me. Bet you're not used to doing that, are you?" He shook his head, rendered breathless and wordless, and one of her legs slipped between his and ground against his rock hard cock. "Not used to bending like a doll." She cupped his face in her palm and trailed a thumb across his lips. He moved to take it in, but she pulled her hand away and tangled it in his hair. "Not used to being taken."

The sharp, hot sting of her hand in his hair shot straight to his cock. His head followed her hand, baring his neck, and he gasped, "Fuck," as his knees gave way and his watering eyes slammed shut.

"Such a pretty boy," she whispered, and traced a finger down the line of his throat, then leaned down to follow it with her tongue. "Do you want me to go easy on you, or do you want it like this?" She scraped her teeth against his skin, and he swallowed and nodded. "Rough, or—"

"Not gonna break." Unless she let go, unless she ended it like that, left him breathless and needy against her car. "Whatever you want."

"You sure? You wanna give yourself to me, let me take over?" He made a small noise deep in his throat, and she laughed against his collarbone. "We're gonna have so much fun, baby, you have no idea." She slid up to her full height and let go of his hair to wrap her fingers gently around his. "C'mon."

Once again, he let her lead, let her guide him up to her fourth floor apartment. "You're gonna look so gorgeous spread out across my bed," she whispered in his ear, as she turned the key in the lock. "So gorgeous while I ride you, or while you ride me." She dragged her tongue across his earlobe, toying with the piercings before she nibbled gently on his ear. "While I make you come apart."

"What about you?" he asked.

"Oh, I'll be having fun; don't worry." She pushed open the door, tossed her keys aside, and started toward the back of the apartment, swaying her hips as she walked. With a glance over her shoulder, she added, "I really like to play," and disappeared into her room. He closed the door and hurried after her.

When he stepped inside her bedroom, she pounced, frantically pulling his shirt over his head before she pinned him against the doorframe with another kiss. His head fell back, and he held onto her for dear life, gripping the smooth curves of her corseted waist. She kissed like each was her last, her lips and tongue and teeth stealing his breath. His hands moved down, across liquid satin panties to cup her round ass. She moaned into his mouth, low and beautiful, as he kneaded her soft, firm flesh.

She broke away, panting, and he stared up into her lust-dark blue eyes, feeling drunk and helpless. She traced a fingertip over his bottom lip, and this time, he did take it in, wrapped his abused lips around it and sucked on it gently. She let out a sharp breath and whispered, "Take off my clothes."

His hands shook like a virgin's as he reached back to untie her corset. He'd never dealt with one before, but hers fell away easily, and they let it hit the floor, freeing her body. She let out a sigh of relief, and he slipped off her skirt, revealing delicate black panties made of satin, then traced his fingers over the angry red marks the corset left on her stomach. His gaze drifted down, and he took in her full breasts; her dusky pink nipples, struck through with stark silver barbells; her soft, slightly curved belly, which she kept trying to hold in in spite of how fucking _perfect_ she was. More freckles than he'd imagined dotted her creamy skin, different and beautiful, tiny pieces that made her _her_. He wanted to touch everywhere, to trace the curves of her body, to draw notes and rhythms of songs between her freckles, to memorize every inch of her skin with his skin, but his hands stayed where they were, gently tracing those harsh red indentations as her muscles twitched beneath his rough fingertips. Finally, he looked back up, eyes wide, and was surprised to see uncertainty flicker across her face. Wanting to quickly reassure her, he let her finger fall from his mouth, and said, "Holy _shit_."

"You like?" she said, smirking, and swirled her wet fingertip around one of her nipples, teasing the hardened skin and the harder metal. "Maybe I should make you suck me here. Would you like that? Would you like to suck my nipples 'til they're hard and aching, while I writhe against your cock and tell you what a good boy you are?" Then she trailed her hand down, tracing her finger across her skin until she slipped it inside her panties . "Or maybe I should get you to—" Her breath caught, and so did his. "To fuck me with your tongue. How 'bout that, hm? I bet you're good at that, aren't you? Or maybe you're better with your hands?" She pulled his hand out of her panties and took it in hers. "Lovely fingers," she said, and traced along the inside of his palm. "Maybe you should fuck me with these instead."

"Maybe I should just fuck you."

She laughed again and let go of his hand, and gave him a coy look. "But aren't you going to play with me first? It would be a shame if I got bored before I got around to this." She pressed her hand over his cock, sending pleasure through his body, and he jerked against her palm, but it wasn't nearly enough friction, not nearly enough heat of skin against skin, not with his oppressive clothes in the way. She seemed to agree, and she unbuttoned his jeans and tugged down his zipper, bringing much-needed relief. "That wouldn't be any fun, would it?"

He slipped off his jacket and tossed it aside, but before he could touch her again, she wandered over to the bed. Even though she was the one who was nearly naked, he felt strangely exposed as her eyes traced along his body. "You're kind of evil, aren't you?" he asked, hoping to hide his sudden discomfort.

"Yep!" she said brightly, and she tugged off her panties, leaving her in just sleek black boots. She stretched out across the bed, her pale skin almost glowing against the dark red sheets. "C'mere." She beckoned him toward her with a finger, and he stumbled over his falling jeans as he followed, almost as if he'd been pulled. "You," she reached out and yanked down his pants, "are wearing _way_ too many clothes. Wanna see _you_ , pretty boy." She traced her finger along his cock, up to the waistband of his boxers, and oh fuck, he needed _more_. "Pretty Tommy." Her fingers twisted in his underwear, and she tugged them down. "You have no idea how much I like guys like you." She sat up and freed him from his shirt, and he stumbled again as he tried to kick off his battered tennis shoes and his jeans. "Careful, baby," she chided, and then pulled him onto the bed, on top of her. "Mine."

Their lips met in another heated, almost painful kiss, and her nails drew burning lines across his back as they dug into his skin. His hands clutched her hips, his grip so tight his fingers ached, and she moaned into his mouth and pushed up against him. She broke away, panting. "Fuck yes," she said. "I'm not a porcelain doll."

"I didn't think so," he said, and nipped at her neck.

She threw her head back, baring her throat, and he bit down, leaving dark red marks that he soothed with his tongue, tasting the salt and sweetness of her body. Her nails dug deeper into his back, then let go, and he slid down her body, tracing the freckles splattered across her flushed skin with his teeth and tongue until he reached her breasts. She let out a soft laugh. "I knew you liked them." Her voice cracked as he wrapped his lips around her nipple. "Touch me," she said, grabbing one of his wrists and guiding his hand between her legs as he teased the cold and sharp-tasting barbell. "Touch me, touch me, touch me."

His fingers slid against her damp folds, but he didn't push in. Instead, he rubbed her clit, trying and failing to maintain a rhythm with his hand between her legs and his mouth upon her breasts. He peered up at her, and _God_ , her abused lips were hanging open, drawing in harsh, panting breaths and letting out tiny, broken whines. "God, yes," she breathed, and he faltered. "Don't stop. Don't you dare fucking stop."

He didn't stop, but he dared to move to her other nipple, to move his other hand from her hip and slide it up the inside of her silky thigh, then slip his fingers inside her. She swore, and her hands tangled in hair. "So good for me. So good. But can you do more?" she asked, and he wasn't offended, not with her voice just shy of wrecked as she clenched around him. She twisted her fingers in his hair and pulled his head back, forcing him to meet her eyes as the flare of heat and pain made him gasp. "Don't you wanna taste me? Use that pretty pink tongue inside of me?"

He wanted everything, wanted to taste her all over, wanted to thrust deep inside and fuck her until they forgot their own names, wanted so much that all he could do was nod and follow her lead until his head was between her legs, his nose buried in coarse, reddish hair as his tongue snaked out to taste _her_ , to taste faintly salty wetness of velvety skin. The air smelled of sweat and sex and _her_ , perfumed skin and faint leather and something indescribably her, and it made him go harder as his fingers and his tongue slipped in and out of her, twisting and teasing and dragging those tiny pleased noises from the depths of her throat. He pulled a hand away and wrapped it around his cock, and she groaned in displeasure and squeezed his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin. " _No_ , Tommy," she said, and he pulled his hand away reluctantly. "If you can't—oh, _fuck_." She broke off as he flicked at her clit with his tongue. "You cheeky little bitch. If you can't behave yourself down there, get your pretty little ass up here."

"What ass?" he joked, and he pulled his fingers out and slid up the length of her body, pausing once to kiss the soft flesh of her belly, until his mouth reached hers. As they kissed again, she flipped him over, then grabbed his wrists and pinned him against the bed, and _fuck_ , he really liked the weight of her body pressing down on him.

She stared down at him, darkened blue eyes soft and surprisingly gentle as she took him in, her gaze almost palpable against his burning skin. "You like this, don't you?" she said, and the corners of her lips quirked and the fingers around his wrists tightened. "Like having me on top of you, holding you down like the naughty little bitch you are?" All he could do was nod as he tried to suck in enough air to keep breathing. His pulse echoed in his ears, his skin felt too hot, and he slumped back against the sheets, limp and wanting. She chuckled, and brushed a thumbs over the throbbing pulse in his wrist. He bared his throat, but it meant more than when she'd done the same for him, and from the way her eyes widened, he could tell she knew.

It meant complete surrender.

"Perfect," she said. "Know what I'm gonna do?" He swallowed and shook his head. "I'm gonna take you apart. Gonna lick you." She bent down and traced her tongue over his tattoos and up his arm. "Mmm, I love your crazy, fucked-up ink. Gonna bite you." She nipped his collarbone, and he jerked up against her. "Gonna suck you all over, gonna mark you up, gonna drive you fucking _crazy_ 'til you're just _dying_ to get in me. Want me to do that, pretty boy? Want me to make you scream my name?" She propped herself up on her arms and gave him another of those intense, piercing stares that made him drown with desire. "Of course it's what you want, isn't it?"

Somehow, he found the breath to speak. "Yes. Fuck, _yes_."

She surged forward and consumed him with another wet and bruising kiss, then pulled back and wiped her mouth. "Good boy." She tugged at his wrists, wrapped his fingers around the bedpost and straddled his thighs. "Beautiful." She trailed her fingernails across his chest, touch featherlight as she drew formless patterns across his skin. "Not fucking fair." She scraped a nail across his nipple, just barely painful, and he shuddered and whimpered at the brief flare of pain-tinged pleasure. "You're so much prettier than me."

He shook his head, as she kept moving her hands, touching only enough to make him clutch the unforgiving wooden posts until his hands ached, touching only enough to drive his overtaxed nerves mad and make him wish for more. His muscles tensed as she reached his ticklish stomach, and he bit his lip hard enough to taste an edge of blood to keep from breaking the moment with a laugh, then she moved down to his thighs and down his legs, mapping and memorizing his body with her touch like he still wanted to do to hers, until she reached his knees and replaced her fingers with a hot and agile tongue, leaving quickly-cooling trails of wetness in her wake as she slid back up his body. "Want more, pretty boy? Gotta tell me."

"Fuck yeah, _everything_." He watched as she neared his hips, then peered up at him through her eyelashes, smirking, and pointedly avoided his aching, wanting, _needing_ cock, instead moving up to bite and suck the hard jut of his hipbone. He jerked in surprise, and she laughed against his dampened skin and moved down to scrape her teeth along the smooth insides of his thighs, then up to bite the bottom of his belly, just below his navel, then again beside it. He let out tiny, helpless whines and groans, pleading wordlessly as she nipped and sucked across his stomach and chest, each sharp shock of pain sending jolts down his spine to the slow-burning fire deep inside him.

"So, so pretty," she whispered, and dragged a sharp and stinging fingernail from mark to throbbing, livid mark. "All that red across your pale skin, gonna be beautiful little bruises in the morning, can't wait to fucking _see_. Do you want me to see?"

He could barely think to reply. "Fuck, more, _please!_ " She dragged her hot tongue across his nipple, and he let out a shattered breath, bucked against her hip as she lightly scraped her teeth across it and sucked, _hard._

His hands fell from the bedposts, and he shouted, "Oh, _fuck!_ " as the world narrowed to her lips and tongue on his nipple, and _God_ , she knew what she was doing, knew exactly how to use her mouth to overheat his nerves and brain. Dimly, he felt her hand brush against his side, to slip between her legs. She whimpered quietly, then moved to his other nipple, and he could feel her fingering herself as she sucked and tormented him, and, fuck, he could see it in his mind, the stuttering slide of her long fingers pushing deep inside, and, _fuck_ , how he didn't come from the image alone...He _needed_ to be in her, had gone beyond totally fucking desperate with want to fucking _insane_ with it. "Jesus, _fuck, please!_ "

She pulled back, and she sank down onto the bed, staring at him through heavy-lidded eyes. She looked utterly wrecked, damp hair sticking out everywhere, skin flushed red, eyes lust-dark bleary, lips hanging open as she dragged in shaky breaths and lifted her wet fingers to his lips. He took them in eagerly, moaning low in his throat, his eyes fluttering closed as he sucked away the intoxicating taste on her skin.

" _Yes_ ," she said.

His eyes shot open, and he stared at her. She stretched out, a cocky, lazy grin spreading across her dazed face, and she nodded toward the table beside him. "They're in the drawer."

He reached over to the table for a condom, and huffed in annoyance when he had to fight to open the box. he finally got one free, but before he could rip it open, she plucked it from his hand and tore it open herself, and he nearly fell over from the delicious friction when her fingers wrapped around his too long ignored cock as she slipped the condom on for him. "C'mon, pretty Tommy," she murmured, motioning him on top of her.

Obediently, he straddled her hips and pushed inside. " _Fuck_ , Ada," he gasped, as he was surrounded by wet, tight heat.

"That's right, baby," she said. "That's what you're supposed to do."

He moved slowly at first, carefully, trying not to drown in the overwhelming heat of finally, finally, fucking _finally_. Her hands stroked his back, gentle as they trailed lower and lower, until they skirted along the middle of his ass. Then one pulled away, and he heard her reach into the table on her side and open a bottle. "Let's make this a bit more interesting, hmm?" He would've followed her to Hell if she'd asked and didn't even think to protest as she teased his cheeks apart and nudged a cool, slicked finger against his hole before slipping it inside. It felt strange, foreign, but the burning stretch faded to the edge of too fucking much, too fucking perfect, another fiery sensation that left him just shy of overwhelmed. He groaned, and his thrusts became harder, more frantic as he drove into her and tried to urge her deeper.

"That's good, baby," she said, breathless, her other hand gripping his ass, her nails digging into his skin, and she crooked her finger inside him, hit the spot that made him shout and swear virulently, stealing his entire fucking brain with pleasure. She wrapped her legs tight around his, the heels of her boots pressing sharp into his skin, and he was closer, closer, so close. "Harder," she urged, and slid in another finger. "More, _fuck, harder!_ "

He let go. Everything was skin against skin and blinding sensation as he pounded into her while she fucked him with her fingers, urging him on, saying, "So good, Tommy, so good," until her words turned into mindless babble and breathy moans, and they both lost it. Her fingers slid out of him, her hand scraped up his back until her nails dug into his shoulder while his palms slid against the sheets. She clenched around him, and that was it. He cried out and came, unaware of anything but the white heat of the world rushing through him while she shouted his name and went boneless beneath him.

His arms gave way when he finally came down, and he collapsed on top of her, spent. He lay there, unable to bring himself to move so much as an eyelid as he tried to remember how to breathe from the heavy rise and fall of her chest against his. His forehead rested against hers, and he could almost taste her breath as he relaxed against her soft, warm body.

He was almost asleep, when Ada shifted beneath him. "Okay, cutie," she said, and urged him out of her and onto his back. "'m not a pillow."

"'m not cute, either." He didn't want to leave her bed, and when she moved to sit up, he wrapped his arms around her waist and tried to pull her back down. "No," he said, and sounded embarrassingly needy. "Stay."

"It's _my_ bed." She laughed and tapped him on the nose. "What if I don't want you here?" He forced open an eye and half-heartedly glared, and saw she was smiling at him, fondly and indulgently. Then, she groaned and pushed at his shoulders. "Okay now, there is no way I'm sleeping in these shoes, honey, so move." She swatted his ass, and he grumbled as she untangled herself from his arms and pulled off his condom, then took care of it.

He rolled over and buried his face in a pillow as she undid her boots, then she climbed into bed and wrapped herself around him, pulling him close. He nuzzled closer, and she chuckled. "I'm keeping you, by the way," she said, and pulled a blanket over them.

"Good," he mumbled, and before she could turn off the light, he was out.


End file.
